


Living Analogues

by Cameron_McKell



Series: Upon Further Review [22]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, F/M, Gen, M/M, Silly, Zoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cameron_McKell/pseuds/Cameron_McKell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day at the zoo with Alan, Lora, and Tron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living Analogues

“Come on, Tron. Where's your sense of adventure?”

 

His audio output locked as he evaluated the playful look Lora gave him – so similar to Yori, even now – until he shook his head and knocked it loose again, “Hibernating in an archive.”

 

She laughed then began lightly tugging him along by his elbow; if not for the layers of Sam's shirt and spare jacket, her hand would be directly on one of his circuits. He was conflicted momentarily by old memory files, before shifting his arm enough that her hold shifted to a blank stretch of his suit.

 

They rejoined Alan just as he was turning away from the booth, three tickets presented in his hand. His User looked from Lora, to him, then to where Lora was holding him, and smiled. “Relax, Tron,” he said quietly, and separated one of the tickets to hand to Lora; she took it, disengaging from Tron so she could go through ahead of them, and Alan seamlessly moved in to occupy the vacated space, though he switched contact to a light squeeze on his program's shoulder. “This is both the easiest and safest way to see a sample of non-User lifeforms from all over this world.”

 

When Tron still didn't seem to agree, Alan sighed, “I'm sorry, we should have told you where we were going beforehand; we just didn't want you to worry.” The last part was said with wry amusement, and Tron smiled a little. The smile dimmed, then disappeared entirely again as he watched the masses of people walking in; even with the entire security suite, he wouldn't be able to properly protect this many Users. “I won't be able to fulfill my function here; there are too many Users.”

 

“Fulfill your-? Tron, no,” Alan began steering them toward the User that would take their tickets, and Lora waiting beyond, looking simultaneously encouraging and concerned, “You don't have to fulfill your function here; you're a guest. That's what the ticket means. They have their own team of security to look after things here.” He paused long enough to hand both of their tickets over with a smile and a quick thank you, then resumed directing Tron toward Lora, “The only thing you have to concern yourself with is enjoying yourself.”

 

“If you happen to learn something along the way, though, we won't hold it against you,” evidently, Lora had been in range for the last portion of Alan's commentary, and smiled at the both of them.

 

He'd defer to their operational expertise in this instance, though it was odd to be superfluous, even temporarily.

 

He watched on as Alan and Lora conferred over a brightly colored guide, planning out their route to optimize viewing experience in comparison to time of day, estimated foot traffic, feeding and maintenance schedules, special presentations, and lunch, and only just managed to control his audio output before he made some variety of fiercely affectionate noise.

 

He didn't have to feel superfluous, because there _was_ a function he could perform here; he would watch over his Users, and do everything in his operational capacity to keep them safe and happy.

 

“We were thinking we should visit the Insect and Reptile house first; hopefully the crowds shouldn't be too bad there yet, and it'll be cooler in there the earlier we get there. Relatively speaking, at least. Sound good to you?” Alan looked over at Tron, and it took 76.2% longer than it should have for Tron to realize he expected an answer; Tron had long ago established parameters for rhetorical questions, as Flynn had favored them heavily.

 

“That's fine.”

 

“You're just Mr. Enthusiasm today, aren't you?” Lora's gentle tone and smile softened the rebuke, but Tron still found himself hunching inward slightly, ashamed. Lora moved around behind him, until she could worm her way between the two men, then caught up one of their arms in the crook of her elbow, and began tugging them toward the House, “Come on, boys; just wait 'til you see this.”

 

Tron shared a brief look with Alan behind Lora's head, then let himself be towed along.

 

* * *

 

“I wasn't aware there were gridbugs in the User world.”

 

Lora looked over at Tron, and couldn't help but laugh; he was standing a few feet further along the wing, face nearly mashed against the glass of the rather small exhibit, close enough that she half expected the glass to fog over.

 

It was easy to forget at times that Tron wasn't an 'ugly giant bag of mostly water' to borrow the phrase – and one day, she hoped he would consent to her examining him, to find out just _what_ exactly he was made of out here – in such a way that his only real use for respiration was communicating, or emergency cooling; most of his cooling was done through his circuits, even covered by clothing as they currently were. Alan had warned her off touching Tron if she noticed him breathing; Sam had tried it once, and got a circular second-degree burn for his trouble before Tron could warn him.

 

Still, even if he wasn't breathing, he was precious.

 

“These aren't gridbugs,” Alan spoke up from his spot on Tron's far side, “but I will admit that they look an _awful lot_ like them.” He straightened up a little to better read the identification plaque next to the terrarium, and Lora gravitated over to see just _what_ was so special about this particular bug. It looked like some sort of praying mantis: vividly green body with spindly, angular legs, and a rather alien head dominated by proportionately massive eyes.

 

Lora had never seen gridbugs in person, but she could concede that the mantis looked like it came from another world.

 

“ _Sphodromantis viridis_ , the giant African mantis,” Alan began reading aloud, “Native to West Africa, south of the Sahara, and as an introduced species in Israel and Spain... Let's see... distinctive white spot on the wings... colors range from green to brown... sometimes mistaken for European mantises... popular as pets... Huh.” He stopped skimming over the information to give Tron and Lora a look, and something about his tone managed to pull the program's attention away from the gridbug lookalike.

 

“What is it?”

 

Alan looked uncomfortable for a moment, then plowed on as if everything were normal. “' _S. viridis_ males are often the victims of sexual cannibalism, though the species has also been known to reproduce parthenogenically. Females produce an ootheca – a mass of eggs protected by a hardened protein foam – within a few days of mating, and can produce several throughout her lifespan. Up to three hundred mantis nymphs can hatch from a single ootheca.'” Lora couldn't help but admire Alan's ability to say all that with a straight face, but she had a feeling...

 

“'Sexual cannibalism?'”

 

... It was going to lead into some rather awkward questions.

 

Tron looked between the two of them curiously, and Alan shifted uncomfortably. He shot Lora a pleading look which practically screamed 'Help! Spousal solidarity!'

 

Lora was fairly positive that her answering smirk read something like 'Not a chance; you dug that hole, so dig yourself out of it'.

 

Several long moments passed, until Alan suddenly turned and started walking away.

 

“Come on, let's go look at the alligators!”

 

Lora glanced over at Tron, whose expression had shifted from curiosity to confusion, and nudged him in the back, just under his hidden disk dock. “Come on, sweetie. Let's go catch up with Alan before one of the alligators eats him or something,” she joked mock-seriously.

 

Something about the joke must not have come over clearly enough, if the alarmed look Tron gave her was anything to go by. He sprinted off down the hallway with a cry of “Alan-One, _wait!_ ” momentarily forgetting to use Alan's name instead of his ENCOM programming designation; Lora watched on for a moment, stuck between feeling bad, and laughing until she fell down.

 

 _Boys_.

 

She shook her head a little, then hustled off after them.


End file.
